Request Fill 15: In Just One Night
by Caera1996
Summary: Answer's the request for "something bad to happen to Bones and Jim has to get it out of him." This is a one-shot withing The Basics of Primary Ed. series.


Title: In Just One Night  
Author: Caera1996  
Rating: R  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
W/C: 3,446  
Note / Summary: One-shot within TBoPE series (no need to read anything else to get this). This is the result of the request from the MOST patient **sickbay23**"I'd like to see something terrible to happen to Bones and Jim has to get it out of him." I hope you like it!

* * *

"Goddamnit," Leonard muttered. Knowing it was probably an exercise in futility, he walked around the car, checking all four doors.

All locked. Of course. He peered inside, easily locating his briefcase and cell on the passenger seat, and the keys in the ignition. He sighed and closed his eyes. At least he hadn't turned the car on before he'd stepped out to pull a flyer out of the windshield wipers.

In a rush of temper and annoyance at himself, he hit the roof of the car with a resounding **bang!. **After a moment, he straightened and patted his pockets. At least he had his wallet.

Looking around the darkened faculty parking lot, he went over his options. Cabs weren't readily available on this side of campus, at this time of night. There was a bus station about 500 yards from where he was on the main street…he could just see the light of it. But he didn't know what the bus schedule was this late. He wracked his brain, trying to remember if there was a subway entrance nearby. He didn't know. Beyond coming to this specific building to teach his class, he just wasn't all that familiar with the area.

_Jim would know,_he thought to himself. But Jim was an unattainable phone call away, waiting for him at home.

He pulled his wallet out and took a quick inventory of what he was carrying. He didn't think he had enough cash to get home, but he did have his credit cards, and a lot of the cabs were able to take that kind of payment. After another moment of indecision, he headed across the lot to the bus stop in the distance. Whether it was bus or cab or subway, he wasn't going to make it home just standing there.

Upon reaching the bus stop he was pleased to discover there was a route map and schedule, and that he'd only have to wait a little while for the next bus to get there. That bus would take him to an area with subway entrance, and he could use that to get to the stop that wasn't that far from his neighborhood. Inconvenient, especially this late at night – Jim was going to be worried – but it was a working plan. And if a cab came by, even better.

Sighing, he eyed the surface of the bench, wishing he had something to wipe it off with. Gingerly, he settled down, being careful not to touch anything. A yawn caught him by surprise. He was tired. It'd been a long day…at the hospital, then at the college for the class he taught, then staying late to get papers graded. _Thank god for Jim,_he thought. He'd had Joanna all day, from breakfast to bedtime. He'd been looking forward to getting home and thanking him…but at the rate this night was going, it'd be way too later to do much of anything.

"Hey man, got money for the bus we can have?"

A voice startled Leonard out of thoughts, and he opened his eyes. He hadn't even realized he'd closed them. Taking in the three young men standing in front of him, Leonard straightened, meeting their eyes steadily.

"No, guys, sorry."

They stared at each other for a moment, sizing each other up, then he glanced at his buddies who smirked back at him. Leonard didn't miss the fact that the guy who spoke was the leader, and that the other two were taking their cues from him. They were dressed predictably – undershirts, long shorts hanging precariously off their asses, sneakers that probably cost them more than they earned in a month, and plenty of jewelry. Of course.

_Typical,_Leonard thought contemptuously, and it was all he could do to not roll his eyes. This kid couldn't be more than nineteen, twenty. Didn't make him any less potentially dangerous, Leonard knew, but he just wasn't the kind of person to get all that intimidated by some kid. Even one who dressed as a punk.

Leonard saw a lot in the hospital, and he recognized overt danger when he saw it. These kids didn't have any visible tattoos, so probably not in a gang. Every person he'd ever seen come through a hospital who was a gang member had tattoos up and down his arms, sometimes on his neck, sometimes on his face. They didn't have a car. They didn't appear to have any weapons. Leonard's arms were crossed over his chest…so he didn't accidentally touch anything…so he was able to glance at his watch without moving much. The bus was supposed to be there in just ten minutes.

"So what – you gonna get on the bus with no money? Nah, man…I don't think so."

Leonard stood, noted that all three of them were nearly as tall as he was.

"Look guys, I locked my car with my keys and everything else in it. I'm just trying to get home."

The three kids looked at each other, again, smirking. When they focused their attention back on him, Leonard recognized that they saw him as an easy mark. Looking around, he realized for the first time exactly how isolated he was here. Cars were passing on the road, but it wasn't all that busy, and there was no guarantee anyone would stop to help him anyway.

Crowding him into the bus stop shelter, the leader got right in his face, forcing him to take a step back, until he was pressed against the plexiglass. And in that same second, Leonard registered there was something pressed against his stomach. He couldn't feel what, and was afraid to look down, afraid to break eye contact.

His mouth went dry, and suddenly this little punk and his friends were more than a minor annoyance…he'd seriously miscalculated here. Everything seemed to stop…his breath froze in his chest though his heart was thudding hard. He swallowed, tried to work some moisture back into his mouth. Consciously tried to relax his body.

"Look, I'm just trying to get home to my little girl and…" he paused. _Jim_was on the tip of his tongue. For the first time, fear of inflaming an already volatile situation stopped him. And for the first time, he didn't acknowledge the man he loved. "…and I want to kiss her goodnight."

His eyes hard, the kid pushed whatever he had in his hand harder against Leonard's body, and this time he did glance down. Had to. His fear confirmed, a sick, sinking feeling in his stomach shook him.

"Turn around."

Not expecting to hear that, Leonard froze, panic threatening to take over.

"Why?"

The unmistakable click of a gun getting ready to fire sounded incredibly loud in the small space.

"Because you want to kiss your little girl goodnight. Turn around. Now."

He was screwed. There was no one to help him here. He had no options but to cooperate, and hope his cooperation would be enough. Slowly, Leonard turned his back to the person holding a gun to him. Breathing shallowly, he was hyperaware of the rank smell that was developing in the small space, enclosed on three sides by plexiglass, pressed and crowded into it as he was. It was the smell of fear.

"Put your hands up on the glass, so's I can see them." The statement was punctuated by the sharp press of the gun into his back. Right against his spine. If it went off now, he might live, but he'd be quadriplegic. He put his hands on the scratched up plexiglass, pressing his fingertips so hard to the surface all his nails went white. He was trying to still himself, didn't want the thugs to see how scared he was.

A hand in the middle of his back suddenly shoved him forward, forcing him to turn his head.

"Don't move, or I shoot. You feel me?"

He squeezed his eyes closed, nodded.

"Yes," he managed to get out. His throat and mouth were completely dry.

The hand in the center of his back shoved him harder, and a foot kicked his feet, making him change positions slightly, opening his legs. And a hand was moving around his waist, feeling in his pockets, and he had to bite his lip to keep himself present, to keep himself still, and to keep himself from lashing out. The feel and terror of this violation merged with the memory of another, more personal one. Something that had happened so long ago it usually felt like another life. Until tonight.

"I…I don't have anything," he said shakily.  
"Man, shut the fuck up!" One of the other two yelled, slamming a fist down near his face on the plexiglass. Leonard jerked back reflexively, and someone slammed his head back down, keeping him still.

His ear ringing, Leonard did his best to stay still, though his whole body was strung tight with tension. The one rummaging through his pocket withdrew his wallet and moved away to rifle through it. Leonard relaxed slightly when that questing hand was off of him, and the gun wasn't jammed into his back.

"You a professor?" The kid asked. Leonard cautiously looked over his shoulder to see him holding up his university ID. "A professor, and all you got is fifty bucks and some credit cards?"

"I told you," Leonard said quietly. "I locked my keys and everything in my car."

"You ain't got nothin' else?"

"No. If I did, I'd give it to you."

"Turn around."

Leonard did, moving slowly, hands still up. He raised his eyes just in time to see the kid going through his cards, dropping the ones he didn't want on the ground, pocketing those he did. He pulled out Leonard's license.

"1825 Palm Court. Sounds like a nice area." He slid the license into his pocket. "Wouldn't want anything to happen to that kid of yours would you?"

Mute, Leonard shook his head no.

"Give me your watch."

Leonard hesitated. It was his father's. It wasn't worth anything except in memories.

"NOW!"

Fumbling with the buckle, Leonard had to try. "It was my father's. He died a while ago. It's old, hardly even works…Isn't worth anything."

"Shut up! Give it to me."

With a shaking hand, Leonard handed it over. The kid looked at it for a moment, then dropped it on the ground, bringing his foot down hard. Leonard cringed at the sound of cracking glass, and he felt like a piece of his heart broke too.

The kid held his eyes for a second, then struck out, catching Leonard viciously in the stomach, doubling him over with a harsh grunt. Someone shoved him hard, pushing him to the ground. And then they were kicking him…his back, his arms…Leonard tucked his head down and curled his hands against his body, protecting them. He grunted and jerked with each swift kick. And, after what seemed like minutes but was probably only a few seconds, he noticed that they were gone.

Breathing hard, Leonard lay still, afraid to move. When he did uncurl, he looked around and was relieved to see he was alone, the thugs who'd mugged him were running across the street, disappearing into an alley between two buildings. Struggling to keep himself in control, on his hands and knees, he picked up every piece of the watch he could, pocketing each of them.

Using the bench, he pushed himself to his feet, slowly, painfully. His body ached, the pain in his stomach making him breathe shallowly. Nothing felt broken. He was just banged up and bruised.  
It was fine. He was fine.

He was fucked…no money, no phone, no way home…but he was physically fine.

And, oh, god, all he wanted was to get home to Jim.

Carefully pocketing the shattered watch, Leonard left the bus stop and headed back to the university. It was a long walk, but he didn't have any money for the bus. Where was the bus? What time was it? Shaking his head, he tried to stay focused, to slow his racing, confused mind. He had to get back to the campus. On the campus he could find someone and borrow their cell phone. So he could get home. He needed to get home. Reigning in his emotions over what had happened, the memories that were wrenched to the surface, he swallowed hard against his roiling, sore, sour stomach and focused on the task at hand.

As he was trudging his way across the campus, he caught his first break. A taxi was coming towards him, from the direction of the center of the campus…probably the dorms. Raising his hand, he stepped way out into the road, practically in front of the taxi, forcing it to stop.

"Man, what's your problem?" the driver yelled irritably.

"Locked my keys in the car," Leonard explained, opening the back door and not giving the driver a chance to either question him or take a good look at him. He hadn't seen himself, but he was willing to bet he was dirty. He gave the driver his address and then sat back, carefully not thinking about anything except getting home. He stared blankly out of the window during the relatively quick drive, and almost before he knew it…after so long and just a few minutes…the driver was asking for him to identify where he was supposed to park.

Leonard directed him to park in his own spot, beside Jim's car.

"That's $26.00," the driver said, turning to look at him over the front seat.

Leonard already had the door open. "Give me two minutes, I'll be right back."

Leaving the driver cursing him in the car, probably calling the police, Leonard thought wryly, he hurried to the front door, trying the handle and then knocking when he found it locked. Knocked again, impatient. Starting to get frantic. They had his license. Finally the door opened.

"Bones!" Jim said in surprise. "Thank god. Where the hell were you? Why weren't you…" Leonard pushed passed him, not meeting his questioning eyes.

"There's a cab…can you pay it?"

"A cab? Where's your car?" Jim took in his posture, noticed a smear of dirt on his clothes, and in a second he went from puzzled to concerned.

"Where's Jo?"

"Sleeping…Bones, are you okay?" he asked, reaching out to him.

Moving away from Jim, keeping his eyes averted, Leonard crossed his arms over himself. "The cab, Jim. Please."

Registering that something was very, very wrong, Jim backed off. Bones hadn't responded to him like this in…well…ever. "Okay, Bones. Okay." He picked his wallet up from the side table by the door. "I'll be right back."

While Jim went to deal with the cab, Leonard hurried to check on every window and back door, making sure everything was locked. Then he went to check on his daughter, needing to see her. While he was kneeling by her bed, gently smoothing her hair, he heard Jim come back into the apartment. Giving her a gentle kiss, Leonard stood and quietly backed out of the room.

Jim met him in the hall, and followed Leonard into their bedroom. Jim watched as Leonard slowly eased himself down to sit on the side of the bed, and closed the door behind him.

"The cab driver said you were on the campus – that you locked your keys in your car."

Hunching forward slightly, Leonard nodded. "Yeah."

"Bones…you're freaking me out here. What's wrong?"

"Is the front door locked? Alarm set?"

Jim crossed the room and knelt in front of him, trying to meet his eyes. "Yes. Why? Bones, what happened? Please…I can see there's something very wrong. I need to know if you're okay."

Leonard shuddered and wiped a hand over his face. "It happened so fast. It…it was terrifying. I didn't know if I'd ever…" he stopped, swallowed hard and just shook his head.

Jim pursed his lips and moved to sit on the bed with him, determinedly drawing him into his embrace. Leonard allowed the physical contact this time, leaned into Jim even, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding him tightly. Jim frowned – he could feel Bones shaking. And, oh god…_What the fuck had happened?_

They sat there together for a few minutes, just holding on, waiting for Leonard to stop shaking. And all the while, Jim's heart broke to know that something horrible had happened to him, and agonizing over what it was. Eventually, Bones started talking, and Jim got a picture of what the night had been like for him…everything that had happened, and the way it had triggered him.

"…and, Jesus, Jim…I'm such a coward. I didn't say anything about you because I afraid of what they would do, and they have our address…"

"Hey, no. Bones, no. You're not a coward. You're amazing for having the presence of mind even with a…a _gun_to you to realize that it might make it worse. Thank God you're okay. Thank God," Jim said. He kissed Bones, gently but with all the gratitude he felt right now. "It'll be okay. They're bottom-feeding scum, but I don't think they're going to bother us. They saw an opportunity with you and took it…they probably threw your license down a drain, and your wallet in a dumpster."

Leonard shifted uncomfortably, feeling all the areas they'd landed a kick, his stomach still unsettled and painful. "I'm sorry," Leonard murmured. "I shouldn't have-"

"Bones, you didn't do _anything_wrong. Nothing. None of what happened was your fault. It's all on them. My poor Bones. None of this should've ever happened to you." He put his arm around Bones and held him until he felt him start to relax.

"C'mon. Let's get you out of these clothes," Jim said softly. He stood and helped Bones undress, easing his shirt off of him, his fingers skating over areas that were already starting to bruise.

"What am I going to do…"

"I'll take care of it. Don't worry…everything'll be fine. Let's just get you settled."

They worked together to get him out of his clothes and into comfortable pajamas. Leonard took a moment to clean up a little, skipping a shower but still needing to wash. Needing to get every memory of what had happened tonight off his skin.

Jim was seething beneath the surface, but he stayed outwardly calm and quiet. For Bones' benefit. Jim was furious at what had happened, but Bones was so jumpy and so obviously traumatized, Jim didn't want him to misconstrue any of what he was feeling as being directed towards _him_.

After Bones was settled in their bed, Jim slipped out of the room to do another quick check of all the windows and doors. He really didn't think the fuckers would bother them all the way out here, but it was hard not to feel hypervigilant right now. He placed a quick phone call to a friend at the San Francisco police department and set up a time for Bones to go in tomorrow to make a report. If he decided to. That would be his decision. Then he spent a couple of minutes calling the credit card companies and reporting the cards Bones carried as stolen.

When he was finished, he headed back to the bedroom. Bones was lying in the bed, staring at the ceiling, no doubt reliving tonight and everything tonight brought up in his mind. Already in his pajamas, Jim turned off the lights in the room, but left the bathroom light on, and left the door open, figuring Bones would prefer that tonight. He slid into bed beside him, and wrapped his arms around him.

Bones turned into Jim's warmth, enveloped himself in Jim's comforting, familiar scent and feel. He used that, and the secure feeling of being in his arms, to push everything else away. Feeling his eyes water, he swallowed and took some controlled breaths and then closed his eyes.

"Shh," Jim murmured, gently wiping the wetness off Bones' cheek. He didn't say anything…didn't want Bones to think he shouldn't feel whatever it was he was feeling. He just held him, one hand rubbing slow circles on his back.

He would be okay. It would take some time to recover from this, but Jim knew Bones would be okay.


End file.
